


A Better Man Is Who I Am With You

by AmalgamWriter



Series: Coulson, Coulson, And Coulson [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: #coulsonlives, Code Purple, Coulson Coulson And Coulson yo, Lace panty kink, M/M, Mild D/S undertones, Sounds like a law firm, Why are you touching Lola?, bottom!clint, top!phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:43:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4665267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmalgamWriter/pseuds/AmalgamWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A certain someone has just been reassigned to the Bus. Of course, rather than being a normal human and just coming aboard, he has to pull a good old Code Purple and sit in his baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Better Man Is Who I Am With You

**Author's Note:**

> So wow, first actual Avengers/AoS story I'm willing to publish. Sorry the sex is horrid and I'm pretty sure they're all completely OOC but meh. I had fun writing it.

Phil Coulson was relaxing in his office, watching reruns of Criminal Minds when Skye stuck her head in, looking nervous. Phil was focused on the screen, mind lost in his memories when she said, “A.C.? We have a security breach in the cargo bay. There...there is a man sitting in Lola.”

Her words have him up off the couch faster than he’d care to admit but that fucking car means a lot to him. His eyes dart to a picture no one actually knows is there on the way out and he sighed. He really needed to stop getting caught up in the past because Fury wasn’t going to give it back to him. Despite claiming to be his best friend. He really wasn’t and hadn’t been for years. His real best friend still thought him dead.

When they walked into the cargo hold, his eyes went straight to the scene before him and he couldn’t breath. Sitting inside Lola, looking for all the world like it was exactly where he belonged (because really, it was) was Agent Clint Barton. The best friend he’d ever had and the best man he’d ever known.

“Hey Phil,” Clint called out. “Can you tell your baby agents to stand down? I don’t really want to go through what Jaz went through with the...what did he call it?...the Nite Nite gun? Yeah, you know how I feel about sedation.”

That made Phil snap back into himself, making him snort. “What are you doing in Lola?” he asked, walking down. He gestured for the others to back off. They look skeptical, especially Ward, but in the end do as they say. Melinda for her part, doesn’t look affected at all. Then again she already knew the secret.

Clint gave him a cocky grin. “Awe sir! Aren’t cha happy to see me? I know Lola is. You were a bastard to take my baby away and not even actually die on me sir.”

He sighed deeply, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, next time I’ll make sure to actually die if I take Lola away from you.” He paused. “Team, this is Agent Clint Barton, and this is what we call a Code Purple. Clint, this is the team.” He pointed each of them out by name, with a small smile.

“Actually, since you died and all, I decided there was no reason not to actually use my actual legal last name anymore. Since there would be no one to confuse me with and...it felt like a fresh start,” Clint admitted with a small smile that’s more genuine than the ones anyone else got to see and a shy little shrug. Almost like he was afraid of Phil’s reaction

His words made Phil grin and clear his throat. Fuck that made him really happy. “I’m sorry, team, this is Agent Clint Coulson. My amazing husband. Who still hasn’t explained how he got here.”

The team is speechless (well May was at the wedding so she has no reason to say anything) while Clint laughed. “Fury. He decided to reassign me. Short of the world ending? I am the newest member of your team. We can get into why later. Though you should know, I am very forgiving and won’t kill you because I still want kids some day. Tashi on the other hand? She was sharpening her knives when I left.”

Phil flinched out of reflex more than anything. Natasha Romanov sharpening _anything_ was always a bad sign. It generally meant someone was going to be in a lot of pain. She didn’t do it to keep them sharp. She didn’t need to. She used them often enough after all. He’d seen her sharpening playing cards once, only to use them to cut the throat of one of their enemies. To be fair, he’d once killed a man with a bag of flour so he couldn’t judge.

“Why don’t we go up to my office and we can discuss your new role?” Because fuck he has missed his husband. And he can see the same glint in Clint’s eyes. Sex first. Talking after. “I’m sure the team can deal with themselves for a bit.”

* * *

 

As soon as the door closed behind them, Clint had Phil pinned against it. He honestly did not care who the hell heard them but knowing his husband, this office would be at least mildly sound proofed. Their mouths met in a clash of heat and passion the bespoke a year apart.

They had had long separations before, deep undercover ops or black ops that made it so they couldn’t talk for months at a time but this was the first time where one of them actually grieved, well and truly _grieved_ for the other. So finally having his hands back on one of those Dior suits that were actually modified to be more than just a bit bulletproof (if not Asgardian...or asshole...proof) was a true gift that had him rock hard in mere moments.

“Mmm...sir...I’ve missed you so much,” Clint muttered against Phil’s mouth, feeling the older man’s lips slowly curving a path along his jaw, towards the shell of his ear.

The sound of Phil whispering in his ear made him shiver. This was The Voice In His Ear, the voice of reason, responsability, sense, and sensibility when the rest of Strike Team Delta was unable to be it for themselves. And now that voice was back, and with that darker undertone that he’d missed. “I missed you too doll. Shall I show you just how much?”

Swallowing hard, Clint managed to nod. Phil knew all his weaknesses and the ‘outdated’ pet names were definitely one of them. Then again, he knew his husband’s weaknesses too so when he got Clint’s pants open and down, he wasn’t faced with his usual tight briefs or boxer briefs.

“Fuck sweetheart. Are you trying to kill me? You look far too delicious like this,” Phil muttered, eyes unerringly focused on the dark purple, nearly black lace thong he was wearing that was bearing covering his hard cock and making the twitching head all the more sensitive for it.

Clint’s dark eyes were hooded as he licked his lips, head shaking. “I just got you back ves’tacha, there will be no you dying unless it is la petite mort.” He smirked, French as smooth and sexy as ever. As proven by the way Phil’s pupils react.

Phil reached up, hand sinking into Clint’s dirty blond hair, making him moan. His husband always did know how much he loved having his hair teased and touched. Especially by those careful, calloused hands. He found himself melting into the touch while he worked the rest of his clothes off until he was standing there in nothing but the lace panties while Phil was still fully dressed.

Flushing crimson, he backed away, heading to the middle of the room with a wicked smirk, eyes on his husband before sinking to his knees, arms behind his back, hold his wrists. His entire posture screamed submissive. There was literally one person in the entire universe who would ever get to see him like that. Was Phil his Dom? Not really, but it was nice to let go for a bit. And Phil liked having complete control. It made them both feel good.

This would be a true test though. Since he hadn’t been with anyone (obviously) since Loki, especially like this. He had been very careful about maintaining complete control and autonomy over the last year but if there was one person he could trust with it, it was Phil Coulson. Looking up through his lashes, he whispered, “Please sir.”

Phil took a few deep breaths, obviously reorienting himself before nodding. While he walked over, he undid his cuffs, rolling his sleeves up and showing off those powerful arms of his. “What is your safeword?” he asked, as he always did when Clint was like this. They had a general safeword, for outside a scene that they both used but when they were like this, they each had their own.

Clint bit his lip, murmuring, “Arrow, sir.”

Phil ran his fingers through Clint’s hair again, scratching gently at the scalp this time. It made a shiver of pure pleasure race down his spine. “Good boy. Mine is paperwork,” he praised him, reminding him with a soft smile. “You look so beautiful for me like this. On your knees, just waiting for me to give you whatever I will.”

Clint gave a little whimper, eyes wide, breath calm and full. He was completely at ease and peaceful like this. It was almost like when he was in a perch, waiting for the perfect shot. That kind of calm washed over him. He was always waiting for Coulson’s orders then too. “Thank you, sir.”

Clint watched his husband reach down and open up the belt for his pants, the snick of the zipper startlingly loud in the quiet space. Phil didn’t shove his pants down though. He didn’t undress himself. He simply fished his cock out with a lazy sort of smile. “Open up sweetheart.” His voice was like silk, making him whimper again. Fuck he’d missed this.

His mouth fell open without any real conscious thought at the command. He wanted to please his husband, little needy whines spilling forth with the degree of desire to do just that. He knew his blue eyes were nothing but pupils, dark and hazy with lust. He knew he had to look like an absolute slut, head tilted back a bit, looking up through long lashes, on his knees, mouth open and waiting. Yet for the first time in a year, his mind was blissfully silent, just waiting for the next order of the one man he would never not trust.

Phil gave his cock a few lazy strokes. He just stared down for a few moments, drinking in the sight below him before finally feeding his shaft into Clint’s waiting mouth. Clint, who was a damn expert cock sucker when it came to pleasing his husband.

Hollowed out cheeks and the tip of his tongue tracing under the head of his cock quickly drove Phil to the edge. His fingers tight in Clint’s hair kept the younger man in place while his hips snapped shallow thrusts. When he got too close, Clint felt him backing up until his cock slipped out of his mouth. He didn’t care how pathetic it made him, he fucking whined at the loss of the delicious taste and familiar weight.

“You’re too fucking talented with that wicked mouth of yours doll. I don’t want to cum down your throat this time though. I want to fill up that tight ass of yours. Up off your knees for me,” Phil ordered, command in his voice but always an undercurrent of love. That’s why it always felt okay. Why he felt safe despite his hang ups with...the past.

Clint pushed himself up off the floor easily. “Where would you like me sir?”

The older man seemed to contemplate this for a moment. “It’s been far too long since I’ve been able to fuck you over a desk. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, sir,” Clint agreed readily because it really had been. The last time had been back when they were both assigned to Pegasus project. Phil’s temporary office didn’t have a couch so they had to make due. Not that it was a hardship.

Phil pulled his belt out of his pants. “Hands behind your back, grasping your forearms. Safeword out if you need. It is not a failure and you will not be punished if you do so,” he commanded, eyes boring into Clint’s with that understanding love that he was so good at.

He assumed the familiar position easily, allowing Phil to wrap the supple leather around his wrists, tying them together. Sure, they didn’t actually need to physical restraint. A verbal restraint would have been enough, but they both enjoyed the layer of trust and intimacy the belt brought.

Phil walked over to the desk, going to the bottom drawer. There was a false bottom built in that he’d had put in years ago (since it was his original desk from the New York office). Popping it open, he took out the lube stashed there. While he was doing that, Clint moved to where he would be able to bend over the desk and still be comfortable. Something that had taken a few years to actually figure out perfectly.

“So beautiful, laid out for me like that,” Phil told him, walking over, pushing a few unimportant items off the desk and out of the way so Clint could really bend over without fear of ruining them or himself. “I’m glad this is a thong. I’d hate to have to tear a hole in these to fit my cock in because they aren’t coming off.”

The words have him hardening farther, precum wetting the front of the panties farther, lace barely soaking it up. He shifted his hips forward for what little bit of friction he could get. “Please sir. Open me up an’ fuck me. Missed having you fill me up.”

A finger slipped under the back fabric, tracing it, pulling it back before moving it to the side and exposing him. The soft click told him Phil opened up the lube. It was the only warning he got before one of those skilled fingers were pressing against his entrance. “Relax for me darlin’. You got to let me in. I know it’s been a while but you can do it.”

Clint took a few breaths to steady himself before nodding, body relaxing for the man that had only ever touched it out of love and kindness. Yes, he had scars from Phil but when they were like this, he only ever touched him tenderly. Even when he was rough. Now get them sparring? That was a whole nother matter entirely. (But still like fucking with their clothes on for them. The junior agents used to say watching them spar was pure erotica.)

Phil made short work of prepping him. They both preferred it like that when they were like this. Later on, next time they had down time, they would find a ridiculously comfortable hotel bed to sprawl out in and take a few hours to really come undone but right now, all he wanted was his husband's cock spearing him open and making him scream his name.

“Do you want a condom or a plug darling boy?” Phil asked, running a hand down Clint’s spine gently.

Clint bit his lip. “Plug. It’s been so long since I’ve been filled up properly and I’ll be nice and ready or you before bed sir.”

Phil obviously liked that choice. Clint tightened the hold on his own wrists as he pressed his cheek into the dark cherry wood desk, the sound of Phil slicking himself up barely audible over his own panting breath.

“You look so perfect like this. Been too long since I’ve had my darling boy just splayed out like this, ready to take my cock so wonderfully. My precious,” Phil purred as he pressed in slowly. He was always so careful when it had been a while and he was no different this time. Fuck he’d missed this. His hand snagged the loose end of the belt, wrapping it around his hand to keep him just where he wanted, the other grabbing his hip tight enough to blissfully bruise.

His pace was relentless. Clint was shameless with need as he pushed back. If the desk wasn’t so heavy, he was sure they would have fucked it straight across the floor into the wall at the rate they were going.

It had the added bonus of giving his cock some nice friction against the wood and lace. An interesting combination of textures and pressures. It didn’t take long for him to start begging. Especially with Phil hammering against his prostate. “Please sir. Please may I cum? Oh fuck Phil. I need to cum...oh please sir….”

Thankfully Phil isn’t in a teasing mood and isn’t about to last either. “Cum for me doll. Cum on my cock. Fuck I’m not going to last either. Gonna fill you up so good and then hold you nice and tight.”

A shuddered cry ran through Clint, shouting his husband’s name as he came upon the desk. His entire body went limp, a hazy smile on his lips as his body was continued to be used until his husband joined him with his own orgasm.

After that, he was plugged up nice and tight with one of his favorite little metal plugs with a sparkling purple gem. He used to joke his ass was the most expensive thing he had. With the plug in, it wasn’t exactly a lie.

* * *

It was only two hours later when they were interrupted from their wonderful cuddle session by May’s voice cutting through the speakers, announcing that they were needed in the briefing room. Phil couldn’t be too upset though. He had his husband back.

Before they left his office, Phil stopped Clint, looking at him. Really looking. “I know that you don’t wear your ring because it can interfere with your grip but now that they know, I want to put mine on. I don’t want to hide this anymore. I don’t want to hide us. You are my husband and I don’t have a damn thing to be ashamed of. I am proud of the man I married.”

Clint looked like he was close to tearing up and really, Phil wasn’t that far behind. It had been an emotional year, hell it had been an emotional day. Still they both managed to hold it together. Which was impressive really. Sure, they didn’t look like overly emotional men but they were both sappy ass criers. Don’t let anyone fool you into thinking otherwise.

Rather than speak though, Clint just reached up and pulled on the chain that was often easily hidden by his clothing. The one that held Clint’s dog tags and wedding ring. The one around Phil’s neck. He undid the chain without a word, slipping the ring off before securing the chain again, tucking the tags back in with a little smile. Taking Phil’s hand, Clint kissed his ring finger before slipping the ring on. (Clint had Phil’s dog tags and wedding ring around his own neck.)

He ended up clearing his throat, taking a deep breath. “I did something else after you died. You’re right, I can’t wear my ring because it messes with my grip. But…” He took the edge of his shirt and wiped it around the base of his ring finger for a few moments. When he showed Phil, he had to take in a steadying breath of his own. “This way? I always have it on. It’s the same inscription, in your handwriting. I just had it covered up because your team didn’t know about us and you didn’t know about it.”

Phil surged forward, kissing him hard. Yeah, there were a few tears in the corners of his eyes now but they were the happy kind. The kind that feel good to have. Of course, they didn’t get the chance to stay there and keep kissing like they really wanted to.

“If you aren’t down here in the next 60 seconds, I’m sending Skye up there to be traumatized. You know I will Coulson,” May broke through, breaking them apart.

Clint chuckled, shaking his head. “Now I remember why I hated letting her and Tashi anywhere near each other. Come on, let’s go see what Melly Belly wants.”

“Please don’t call her that,” Phil asked as they headed out. “I like all your insides on the inside. She would happily kill you for that.”

“Shall I call her the Calvary instead?”

“I will kill you Barton,” May threatened, having heard the suggestion.

Clint laughed, grinning at her. The rest of the team looked a little weary but that was okay. “Oh but Miss Linda Lou Who, I named you!” He paused. “Wow I have been spending way too much time with Stark lately. I swear, I have actually started to respond to Legolas like it’s actually my name.”

“Clint, you have Elvish tattooed on you. I’m fairly certain it secretly is.” Phil grinned at him, winking, while Melinda actually came over and hugged Clint. She always did have a soft spot for the bastard.

“I’m glad you’re here. I have hated that you haven’t known. First time you shoot me with a nerf anything though, and I will shoot you for real. Again. Also Coulson? You have Elvish tattooed on you too. And Captain America’s shield. You’re both nerds,” May told them, giving her version of a smile.

Skye looked absolutely gobsmacked. “This is it, isn’t it? The world is ending and I’m going crazy. I mean, A.C., dude, you’ve always been pretty laid back but….Melinda May just **_hugged_** another human being…”

“You should see her around Natasha. They turn into adorable teenage gossips...with drinking problems…” Clint told her with a laugh.

Phil shrugged a bit. “Melinda and Clint have always been friends and Clint is my husband. Of course we’re happy to see him. The fact that he’s here to stay? It’s wonderful. Kind of like having the original Strike Team Delta back. Before Mel went to desk duty and Natasha was brought in from the cold.”

Clint snorted. “From Russia, with Love.”

Phil smacked his ass. “Behave or I will make you do paperwork. I have that ability again. Lots and lots of paperwork. _All of the paperwork_.”

“It’s like watching mom and dad flirt,” Fitz whispered to Simmons.

“Aye but at least these two are hotter,” Simmons replied.

“I would put an amen to that but I actually look up to Coulson and new Coulson like a dad so yeah no. Just no.”

Ward had yet to say anything. In fact, he was looking pretty petulant. Phil sighed, carefully not rolling his eyes. “Anything you’d like to say Agent Ward?” He could feel how bad Clint wanted to laugh. Everyone else was being addressed with the least amount of formality possible so obviously Phil was doing it to be a dick and Clint damn well knew it.

“Are you sure it’s wise to be working together? Considering you’re married. They tend to split up married couples for a reason. Especially ones who have authority over another,” Ward said but really, his face said so much more. He was just pissed because they had brought in another **_better_** specialist.

Before he got to say anything, Clint gave his hand a squeeze and Phil gave a barely there nod that most everyone would miss. “Agent Ward, I’m assuming you have heard of Strike Team Delta and the things Agent Romanov, my husband and I did over the last decade together correct?”

Ward nodded reluctantly. “Everyone has. Fury’s personal task force. The best of the best. You three could do things no one else could or would do. A lot of black ops missions, a few missions like Budapest that made everyone want to be you.”

“Ah _Budapest_ …” Clint murmured, a small, private smile on his lips. “That was my favorite anniversary. My husband and best friend helped me blow a city up for our eight year wedding anniversary. Now Ward, that was three years ago. Tell me something. Do you still think we shouldn’t be working together? Because I have been married to my husband for eleven years, including the year he was ‘dead’ as well as being with him another four years before that. So fifteen years. Most of which he was my handler. The voice in my ear. Never once did we put us first and the mission second in the field. Aliens invaded, my husband died, and I still picked up my bow and saved the world. _Don’t_ question my competence or I will take you down to the mats and teach you why SHIELD measures your competence and worth by Natasha and I.”

Ward looked like he was trying to find a reply, FitzSimmons and Skye looked impressed, and May was openly smiling, as was Phil. “Have fun, innamorato?”

“Mmm yes. It’s not as much fun as it would be with a junior agent I can torture with psychological warfare.” He got a hopeful look on his face. “Is that allowed here? Is it? Can I shoot at them? I swear, I won’t shoot May because she shoots back with live munitions but the rest? I won’t hurt them too bad.”

Phil had to shake his head. “It’s like I got a husband and a puppy. Jūs esat dork.”

“Two things. One: That wasn’t a _no_. Two: You fucking finally learned Latvian! Is that the twelfth or thirteenth language?”

He tilted his head. “Are we counting Russian Sign Language a separate language?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Fourteenth. I learned Serbien too,” he laughed, giving him a darting kiss. He knew that would put him in the lead of their little competition to learn as many languages as possible. You knew the language when you could go to the country and have a conversation with a local for at least twenty minutes without missing anything on either side.

Skye frowned at them. “You two are weird.”

Clint gave her a grin. He loved being called weird. “I like her. So are we adopting her?”

Skye looked pained at that. But it was like the kind of pain where you thought it wouldn’t happen so he just smiled and without hesitation, looked at his husband and with certainty said, “Yes. SHIELD is going to be so confused with three Agent Coulson’s running around.”

“Sweet but I am so teaching her archery.”

“Wait really?” Skye asked, looking painfully hopeful and very confused.

Clint laughed a little and nodded, a bright grin on his face. “ _Yup._ Of course, that means that you’ll have to accept having the Avenger’s as family too and they are all a bit insane. It’ll mean having Tony want to have you play with his tech or Tashi teach you hand to hand or coming to movie nights. Things like that. Oh and you’ll have to come to Tony and Steve’s wedding too of course.”

Skye literally launched herself across at them, hugging them with all she had. He was pretty sure she was crying but he wouldn't call her on it and both he and Clint would kick the ass of anyone who did. 

Yeah, this was going to be perfect. Because he finally had his husband back and from the looks of it, Skye would finally have the parental figures she craved so much, and maybe with Clint around, Ward would take the stick out of his ass, and he knew May would love having him around to play with, and the science babies would get to have fun with his trick arrows, even if he would never let them touch his bow.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I might write a part two for this and turn it into a series just because I have this idea of them ending up stranded on the Bus in the middle of no where and Clint being like "Yeah no, fuck this. I'm getting the truth serum and we're playing some REAL truth or dare."
> 
> Kudos and friendly comments are always welcome!   
> ~Aleks


End file.
